


someone to be kind to

by Anonymous



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, fanon what fanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:21:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26274028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Patrick Kane, pillow princess
Relationships: Patrick Kane/Jonathan Toews
Comments: 24
Kudos: 151
Collections: Anonymous





	someone to be kind to

**Author's Note:**

> 100% self-indulgent content made only for me

The first time, Jonny thought Patrick was lazy. But he gets it, now. It’s hard to describe it. The way Patrick gets. It’s sort of like-

Jonny’s fingering Patrick open, Patrick stretched out long and languorous beneath him on the sheets. Jonny can feel the heat build up between where the naked flanks of their bodies are pressed together.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been. Kissing Patrick slowly, reaching down his lax body, wrist at an angle. He’s tight around Jonny’s fingers, but relaxed enough that Jonny could push in, if he wanted, if Patrick wanted. But he won’t. Patrick likes it loose and messy and drawn out, likes to lose himself in the sensation of being stretched. Jonny’s avoiding his prostate, just scissoring his fingers in and out, and Patrick sighs lightly against Jonny’s lips, so quiet he can only feel it.

It’s meditative, opening Patrick up, both of them breathing deep and steady. He’s hard, but there’s no urgency to it. He feels the steady pulse, pulse, pulse of arousal running lazy and warm through his blood. Time goes syrupy and Patrick gets looser and looser. Wetter and sloppier, when Jonny slicks more lube in.

Jonny’s head goes blank as he loses himself in the repetitive motions, the steady, shared breaths. He doesn’t know how long it’s been when Patrick presses his lips against Jonny’s in a light brush. He shifts under Jonny, thrusting his hips up in those minute little motions that mean he’s ready. Jonny’s fingers are pruned when he slips them out.

He holds himself over Patrick with two arms braced to either side of his broad shoulders. Patrick blinks sleepy eyes open as a slow smile spreads across his face, dimples popping. He looks completely relaxed. Jonny’s heart clenches looking at him, open and trusting, hair spread out over Jonny’s pillow, light from the windows illuminating his chest as it rises and falls.

Patrick’s eyes flicker closed at the first slow push in, his mouth falling open. He’s blood hot and wet around Jonny, but so slack and accommodating. Jonny starts moving, slow but insistent. Like this, he can’t help but hit Patrick’s prostate, and the pressure must feel good because Patrick’s legs spread wider against the bed.

They kiss, no tongue, just steady presses of closed lips. Patrick keeps his mouth slack and lets himself be kissed. He’s not loud, just breathes softly, makes these little mmms from deep in his chest when Jonny does him right. Sweat is rolling down Jonny’s temples in a steady drip, drip, drip. Patrick is dirty wet, lube slicking down his ass and onto the sheets. The room smells so strongly of sex it hangs thick in the air, a humid pocket that wraps them up. The only sounds in the room are the slick slap of their bodies and Jonny’s embarrassingly harsh breathing. It’s like they’re stuck in this space, where orgasm is just on the horizon, heat building at the base of Jonny’s spine with no release valve.

Patrick’s hand comes up to slip two fingers into his own mouth. He sucks them in, gets them wet. He reaches down his flushed chest and pinches one nipple between his pointer and middle fingers. Smears his spit over it, slow, leisurely. Just holds it lightly between two slick fingers, rolls it so gentle the motion is barely visible. He must feel it, though, because he arches his spine up, sinuous and lazy, like an animal waking up. Jonny’s fucking him hard, now, but he stays relaxed against the sheets, just reaches one muscled arm behind him to press against the headboard. Lets Jonny slap into him strong and fast.

His face is almost serene. Patrick is constantly in motion, licking his lips, touching his nose, rubbing his neck. But here, in this space they’ve carved out, he’s still. Smooth skin between his eyebrows, mouth pliant and soft, eyes resting shut. His breathing is measured and even. He could almost be asleep, not getting rawed into the fucking mattress. Blissed out of his mind. And it’s like that – it’s exactly like that. And- fuck. And Jonny did that.

Jonny is sweating, shaking, fucking into Patrick’s hole. Patrick is so loose around him, warm and sloppy and Jonny can’t get the friction he needs to come. His whole body is shaking with the effort of holding steady over Patrick. He drifts in it, the way he does during a long work out, that empty headspace where it’s just the repetitive motion of his body and the slide of his sweat. His sense of time is completely lost.

Patrick reaches his slick hand down, wraps a loose fist around himself, one finger resting on the head of his cock. Just holding it, letting the way Jonny’s thrusts jostle his body do the work for him. Everything shifts, like starting down a hill after a long plateau. They’re working towards orgasm, now, but Patrick shows no sign of strain or urgency, taking what Jonny gives him as he slides closer and closer.

Something tips. Patrick shudders, his hole clenching down once, tight, and then his orgasm hits. The first pulse of come is strong enough that it hits him on the lips. His mouth drops open, just a little, and his spine curves up as he shoots all over his stomach. It seems to move through him slow, and all the while he keeps up that light rub over the head of his cock as the motion of Jonny’s body works him through it.

The muscle contractions hit and Jonny can’t stop the grunt they tear out of him, hot clutching pressure around his cock. He’s been so close for so long that coming feels impossible, but the involuntary squeeze of Patrick’s hole, the way he looks with come streaking all up his chest – It starts there, a tingle at the base of his spine, pooling out like an oil spill. Heat spreads through him, full body, fingers and toes and the crown of his head, as his orgasm rolls sweetly over him and his cock pumps spurt after spurt of come inside Patrick’s lax body.

He looks down at Patrick and Jonny can’t – he isn’t - It’s fucking overwhelming. Patrick’s face is raw and open and it's fucking devastating, the way he looks. Eyes blown, crinkled up at the corners, barely lucid. He grins big and dear. Jonny can see the gap in his teeth.

Patrick reaches up with a shaking hand and cups the back of Jonny’s neck. He draws him down into a kiss, tongue slicking into Jonny’s mouth, all wet heat and the salt of Patrick’s come from where it hit his lip.

They kiss for a long time. Jonny comes back to himself slowly. Patrick’s fingers are sliding along the nape of his neck in soothing circles. They both shudder as Jonny slips out.

“Hey,” Patrick says. He brings his hand up to cup Jonny’s cheek, expression so painfully warm. It’s the first time he’s talked in hours. “You wanna eat it out of me? I bet I could go again.”

Jonny flops face down into the pillows and Patrick laughs, and laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading <3 if you liked it please let me know!


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